Veni, Vidi, Bibi
by CouslandSpitFire
Summary: <html><head></head>F!Cousland/Alistair and general party banter;  A tavern, some beer, much giggling and a bit of racism. This is a story of how they came, they saw and they drank.  Prequel to "Definitely Undrunk"</html>


**Veni - Vidi - Bibi**

Wynne would have sworn that neither Alistair nor the Warden had had much more than a pint of beer. They had a second one in front of them, but these were still relatively untouched. In hindsight, Morrigan and Sten might have been right when they insisted on staying back in the camp. She remembered how Morrigan had said that she wouldn't partake in such foolishness. It hadn't seemed quite as foolish back then, but now… Now, Wynne wasn't quite so sure.

Alistair hadn't stopped giggling since he finished the first pint and even though the Warden had tried to keep a serious face while she listened to Zevran, a snicker still escaped her now and again. Her cheeks were a healthy red, her eyes were bright and when she tried to shift her weight just a little bit she often miscalculated the size of her chair, almost falling off, if not for Alistair, that is, who's hand would shoot out to steady her instantaneously. Wynne was actually quite surprised he still had his reflexes in his apparent state, but then again, his gaze hardly ever left their Grey Warden these days.

It was a bit like watching a big, terrible accident. Wynne just couldn't quell her fascination and look away. Especially not after the Warden snickered a bit at her own unsteadiness and then leaned further into her companion. She whispered something that sounded like "I think I'm drink," near his ear, making him blush a little at her closeness.

Zevran, who sat on her other side, raised an eyebrow at her words, which he seemed to have heard without problems. "Oh, my lovely Warden, _drink? _We can't have that now, can we?" he grinned and watched her, full of amusement.

"Shave my back 'n call me an elf", Oghren then said to her left, looking at the two of them, "They're sodding drunk. Didn't have much more than a pint 'n they're smashed." He shook his head in disbelief. Wynne thought it might be best not to point out that he, quite the contrary, was always drunk, "Alistair hasn't stopped giggling since his first pint, 'n our fearless leader is one sip short of being the same…" he paused, contemplating for a short moment. "It's like an accident", the dwarf suddenly stated as Wynne looked at him with surprise, "I love watching accidents, they're sodding hilarious," he then clarified before swirling the dregs in his empty glass knowingly, "Hmpf… Jug is empty. I'll go 'n get some more".

With that, he wiggled off his chair and walked towards the counter, jug in hand. It took him slightly longer than necessary, mostly because he couldn't walk in a straight line and ended up the complete opposite side of the tavern.

"Am I the only one who sees the irony in our stout little friend's words?" Zevran inquired with a smile as he picked up a grape from their plate. He sliced it a bit, so he could put it at the rim of his glass. He stared at his new decoration for a few moments before deciding he wasn't quite satisfied, quickly slicing and adding another one. "I believe he couldn't find his behind without a map right now", he concluded then and looked up to watch Oghren. He was staring at the door leading outside, irritated and confused, before turning around sharply in search of the bar. He turned too quickly, however, and ended up facing the door again, causing yet more irritation on the dwarf's part. At that the elf chuckled. "But then again – maybe a map would not help, either."

With that Alistair broke into a fit of giggles once more and Wynne rolled her eyes, sighing at their antics. Just as she took another sip of her beer she heard a loud crashing noise and without looking she knew exactly what had happened. Oghren had seemingly found the bar, but was currently glaring at a man twice his size who had obviously not seen the drunken dwarf and walked right into him, sending both of them flying, jugs crashing on the floor. The Innkeeper scowled at them and came out from behind his counter. Wynne pricked up her ears to try and listen in on the impending feud, but unfortunately they were too far away for them to hear anything.

"Hmm… that can't be good", Zevran mused as he looked up. "Perhaps we should strip our stout little friend of his axe the next time we entertain the thought of spending a relatively bloodless evening together for a change." He nodded in the direction of Oghren, the noise in the tavern made it difficult to figure out what was being said, but the rage imprinted on their companion's face told a thousand tales as his fingers twitched for the axe strapped to his back, "I think he is threatening our host." Zevran continued, turning to face the action fully, smirking at the imminent carnage.

Alistair turned around too and raised his eyebrows, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol as he struggled to contain his fits of laughter. He tried to sober himself up and be serious and he was successful, if only for a moment, as their companion attempted to draw his axe but grasped nothing but air in his drunken search for it. However, when the other drunk grabbed for one braid of the dwarf's beard and pulled, he burst out into uncontrollable laughter "He'll have to hack away with something other than his axe, then…" as the dwarf grasped onward, angrier now but still failing to find his beloved weapon, "Maybe he can gnaw on the lad's knee caps instead", he managed, full of glee at his own wit.

Zevran smirked and clinked his glass against Alistair's before adding his own two cents. "You should not mock the dwarf, he doesn't like that, or so I'm told... He can be a mean little thing. If you're not careful, he'll jump up and spit in your navel. You don't want that, you don't know what's been in that mouth of his, but the smell alone…"

Wynne scoffed at their conversation but simply watched as the templar seemed to find the mental picture alone hilarious. She was glad when the Warden – their voice of reason – finally shot both of them a glare, sliding off her chair as gracefully as she could. "I'll have you know that what you're saying there is just a few inches short of racism", she declared, managed to keep a straight face up until the point the two men broke into laughter, but then she couldn't help but join them and allow herself to giggle at her own pun. After taking a moment to gather her composure, she turned around with the promise to aid their friend and made off to calm the situation.

Wynne watched her closely, wondering to herself if she was wise enough to avoid joining in with these smart comments about height this very moment. She instead studied the situation forming behind them. When she was confident that the Innkeeper and Oghren were calming down, she looked back at the men left sitting at their table.

"You're not laughing, Wynne", Alistair complained at that moment, looking at her with glassy, brown eyes. Oghren had been right, despite being in a sorry state himself, the lad was quite clearly drunk after just one pint. To be fair to him, he had probably never had the chance to drink anything remotely resembling alcohol in his years in the Chantry. As for their fearless leader, as Zevran liked to call her, she could at least keep her footing and even coerce an angry Innkeeper into submission as she spotted him nodding in agreement to her persuasive arguments before walking back behind the counter.

"I'm enjoying my brew, Alistair, and then I think I shall go to bed since we have rooms for a change… It will be the last time in a long while any of us will actually have a proper bed", she assured him and smiled when she saw that his attention was long gone, fixed on his Warden companion as so often was these days. She could see his eyes soften a bit as a smile tugged at his lips.

"Ah, ignorance is a bliss, isn't it?" Zevran chimed in, noticing the shift of attention. "I think he still thinks we don't know anything," The elf clicked his tongue disapprovingly, which at least got the templar's attention back.

"Know what?" Alistair asked, raising an eyebrow suspiciously.

"Know what, indeed", the Crow laughed, "Why, for example, how you stealthily try to sneak into her tent after your night watch is over? Or maybe how you set up your bedroll near the fire, well away from her, thinking it will fool us? Or even perhaps how you casually stroll over to that place in the morning, just after you've left her tent minutes earlier, as though we'd never notice? Sneaky, very sneaky indeed, my dear friend."

Wynne could have sworn that she saw the Grey Warden's alcohol fueled blush deepen a bit at that, before he defensively crossed his arms in front of his chest "I'm not trying to be sneaky. I can be very sneaky, if I want to be sneaky. Raised by dogs, remember?" he said.

Zevran chuckled at his adamancy, "Flying dogs, yes, I remember. But maybe dogs are not the stealthiest creatures on this earth." Fang, who had been surprisingly quiet throughout their evening, barked at that and came out from under the table, shooting the elf a look. "Save for you, of course. You're a sneaky beast. Now, if you could just keep your drool away from my pack, I would never guess that it is indeed _you_ stealing my rations. Apart from that, you can be very artistic and have good timing, I have to say. Very sneaky." The big mabari wagged his stubby little tail at that and barked happily, causing several people to throw them a glance. "In any case, you're attempts are futile", the assassin informed Alistair with a big grin. Wynne chuckled, when Alistair flushed even more and started to swirl his mug with great attention.

"I'm not attempting anything... I have nothing to hide", he quickly said and glanced up, just to see that neither of his two friends believed a word. "Maybe I've been to her tent, maybe I helped her… uh… do stuff. Warden stuff", he tried desperately to convince them, but all his efforts did was elicit a deep laugh from Zevran.

"Oh, I bet you are helping her, my friend. Warden stuff, you say? I should join the Wardens then, it certainly _sounds_ like fun. This Warden stuff, that you do", the elf teased him with great amusement, which only grew when Alistair shot him a sharp glare, before sniggering to himself quietly, obviously jumping from thought to thought without sharing them. He even seemed to think that they believed in his explanation for his late night visits to her tent. Wynne contemplated letting the conversation end here, but she could not resist teasing the boy at least a little bit.

"Zevran might be a good addition to the Grey Wardens – then maybe you wouldn't have to stay up so late at night, all alone in that tent, doing _stuff_", she said very seriously and nearly smirked at the panic that was quickly settling onto Alistair's face.

"I could help, you know, with this Warden stuff. I'm helpful like that", the elf added and smiled widely with a sparkle in his eyes.

"No! No, no, no! That is a bad idea. The Warden's don't just take _anybody,_ you know, and I… uh… I mean, the tent is too small for more people, plus the Warden stuff is… it is…" panicking the young man looked around the room, trying to find something to say. "It is best done by two people and we're two, I and her, so we're all full up. No help needed", he ended his panicked ramble abruptly and gave Zevran a determined and serious look, almost willing him to believe what he was telling them.

"Oh, what a pity. Just call should you need any help, though. Or tips. I'm very helpful, just so you know", the elf replied with a shrug, clearly enjoying Alistair's discomfort. "You see, I'm quite sure if you arch your…" he began to suggest, but the embarrassed Warden cut him immediately.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! No… arching! No tips! No nothing!"

"As you wish", the assassin gave in, "but how will you ever learn how to optimize your _Warden stuff_, if you don't listen to tips? I am merely a friend with humble suggestions".

Alistair took several sips from his mead. "I'm not listening, just so you know. Not listening!"

Wynne took that as her cue and got up, glancing at the keys on the table – only two were left. Leliana, her roommate for the night, had chosen to go to bed soon after they had eaten to sleep out her concussion and both Sten and Morrigan had stayed in camp, not wanting to join their tom foolery. "I'll leave you now – don't do anything stupid and don't break anything", she advised with a small smile as they nodded up at her like good little boys. She knew better than to assume they would head her warning and was convinced that the moment she was out of sight they would have forgotten her even being there, let alone her parting words.

Only after Wynne had left did their other Grey Warden appear at their table once more, giving them both anxious looks, intertwining her fingers in front of her sheepishly. "Alistair… Zev…" she murmured, her expression was blank.

Slightly alarmed, the templar turned towards her, "What's the matter?" She cleared her throat and tried to flash them a reassuring smile. It didn't work.

Zevran raised an eyebrow at her. "Yes?", he probed when the silence continued.

She pressed her lips together and then pointed over her shoulder, "I think I broke the dwarf."

Both men turned around, looking for Oghren. It took them a while to make him out, mostly because he was lying flat on his face, right in front of the counter, snoring contently. He had – once again – passed out and they both sighed, knowing that they would have to carry him to his room.

They shared a look and then the elf sighed. "We could just leave him there. He is hairy enough to be taken for a bear rug. It would add to this little establishment's charm", he suggested.

Their leader cringed at that and crinkled her nose "That will be terribly uncomfortable for him, he'll hurt everywhere. Or... maybe…" She breathed a small laugh, "Last time we only found him the next morning and he just sat up and kept drinking so, maybe he won't…" Her thoughts trailed off and she cocked her head, a movement which her dog imitated with a whine. She looked at the dog and scoffed. "What? Do you want to carry him?" A bark was her answer. "Maybe we should just leave him, teach him a lesson. Show him that he needs to take responsibility about not collapsing at random locations… Maybe he'll learn from this. Maybe it'll be different this time." She said contemplatively, "I mean, just imagine if there was a little puppy right underneath him! Zam! He'd be crushed!" She smacked her hands together at that, to demonstrate the deadliness of a falling Oghren. Fang gave a low whine at that, looking at the dwarf and then back at her. She sighed and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Oh, stop lecturing me! He is heavy!"

"And he smells", Alistair added, turning his attentions to Fang. "You of all people, or animals at that, should smell it… Plus there was that time I carried him to his tent… He called me Branka and asked for some nug oil. I didn't stay long enough to listen to what exactly he wanted it for…"

Zevran laughed at that. "A truly wise decision, I dare say. I don't think he minds staying here. He looks content." The three of them looked at their friend for some moments as he lay flat out on the floor, stealing glances from each other occasionally, until Fang broke the silence and gave a last indignant bark as if to will them to do the right thing.

"Fine, fine. We'll get him to his room", the elf sighed and stood, rubbing the dog behind one ear. "And you're going to help, seeing as you are the one with the conscience, my friend." Fang whined a bit, stepping back and away from Zevran. "Now, now, you're the one who insisted we do this", Zevran raised an eyebrow at the animal before nodding over to Oghren.

A deep sigh escaped from the dog's muzzle and then he trotted over to the dwarf, delicately taking one leg between his teeth and pulling a bit. Oghren gave a twitch and sat upright, mumbling something into his beard. "I'll see him to his room with Fang's help," Zevran said with a sigh at his impending mission. "You two should go to bed. You have unfinished _Warden Stuff_ to do, or so I'm told. I wouldn't want to keep you from it."

Alistair gave him a light shove, blushing again. The young woman could only look from one to the other, wrinkling her brow in confusion. Warden Stuff? Did she miss something?

"Why are you smirking at me like that?", she asked of Zevran but he simply shrugged his shoulders, leaving them behind while he tried to pull Oghren upright. Maybe he could get the dwarf to walk at least up the stairs. "I'm not smirking. No smirking here, ser", he assured her as he struggled along with Fang.

"Meh", she uttered simply, unsatisfied with this answer but accepting it was all she was going to receive. With that, she grabbed the last key on the table and proceeded to walk towards the stairs leading to the rooms. It was then that Alistair realized that he did not, in fact, have a room for the night. Zevran had organized the rooms and put the keys on the table and now that he thought back, it did seem a little strange that the elf hadn't mentioned any room distribution plans. Wynne had joined Leliana, Zevran had taken the second one, obviously feeling brave enough to share with the dwarf for tonight – and the last one was in the Warden's hands.

Puzzled he stopped in his tracks as he reached the top of the stairs, until she turned around, opening the door with her key. "Are you coming?" she asked with a smile, leaning up against the door frame with that twinkle in her eyes he had come to recognize. This was how he had ended up in the same room as her, in the town's only tavern…

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_Thanks for reading! I hope you made it this far... *g* Before I forget to explain the title: I was thinking of one for ages and couldn't come up with a good one. So I named it "Veni, Vidi, Bibi" - "I came, I saw, I drank." That's the best I could come up with, I'm sorry... LOL This is more or less the prequel to "Definitely Undrunk" - which I had actually started to write even before the other piece, but I changed many aspects several times because I wasn't satisfied with the situation. I got the idea when I read, that one of the writers said if Alistair went out to drink "he would giggle uncontrollably for the rest of the evening", because I found the mental picture hilarious! The writers also said, that Morrigan would refuse to partake in such foolishness and that Wynne likes good, fine brews. And that Zevran would insist on garnishing his drink with fruits and a little umbrella... Alas, there are no umbrellas in this inn. So, that is how that all came to be and then it just kinda developed a life of it's own. I hope it's not too bad, though... The language, at least, should be better than in the other pieces - thanks **BeautifulApparition**! You are an awesome beta-reader and I'd like to dedicate this piece to you. =) I hope you're willing to read some more stupidities of mine.  
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_That said... hope you enjoyed it!  
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